Scarlet Magic
by Chocoholic221B
Summary: High School AU one-shot (with a dash of MAGIC!). Fem!Pika. Features a Kurapika with more magic than she can handle, two dorky twelve-year-olds, and one interested Witch Hunter named Chrollo. Halloween-themed.


**Warning: Fem!Kurapika story. Don't like it then leave. I don't need your judgy gaze destroying my art. Lol, love you all.**

 **Scarlet Magic:**

 **she was different and the same**

She sighed, removing her earring, as she readied the draft. Anyone could mix up a few ingredients and make a disgustingly unenticing stew of crow's feet and baby blue sapphires, but to make a potion you needed magic. Her parents wouldn't like her using it, but if she was ever to control her Fae, she would need to practice. A witch with magic as explosive as hers needed discipline developed over years of difficult, sometimes life-threatening, training that they could only receive in special academies. Academies designed especially for witches with Faes, with ridiculous amounts of magic in their reserves. So, why wasn't she in one of these academies, you ask? Well, Kurapika was a special case, and special cases in magic terms usually meant titanically destructive and uncontrollable. It lashes out and crushes whatever lies in its path.

Her Fae wouldn't be much of a problem if it wasn't for her heritage, which magnified it when she got excessively emotional. And when she got emotional, she became deadly. Too deadly according to the elders. At ten months, she was sentenced to death, and her parents decided to disappear with her. Away from the Witching Society, living amidst the Witch Hunters and the humans who feared them so much. But at least, as long as they weren't found out and she appeared harmless, they wouldn't hurt them.

"Kurapika," her mother called, coming through the door, dressed in a red shirt and black pants, her short blonde hair curled at the ends. "Magic practice, again?"

"I can't risk it flaring up during school," Kurapika whispered, voice cold and void of emotions as usual. No emotions equaled less risk of her Fae flaring up, after all. It was the rational thing to do. "Rather get it out of my system now."

Her mother pursed her lips as she usually did when all the guilt and regret rose up in her. Her brown eyes glittered with tears. The moment Kurapika would step out that door and march off to school, she'd let them go, but never when she was there. She thought she had to be strong. Kurapika felt her throat grow thick as well, making it hard to swallow. She pushed it down, recognizing the symptoms. No emotions. Emotions acted as catalysts. Too much of them might lead to the entire city of Lukso going up in flames, or simply being wiped off the map completely.

She took one deep breath, and said, in that same quiet, gentle monotone, "I should start heading to school."

"Okay," her mother replied, giving her a one-armed hug, before placing the lid over the pot of almost-potion. "What was this supposed to be, anyway?"

"I was trying to copy Merlin's Metamorphosis potion," she replied, heading downstairs. Her mother followed, closing the door to the attic behind her.

"What for?"

Saying that she was trying to figure out if she could possibly alter her DNA in order to get rid of her Kurtan heritage probably wasn't the best idea.

"Ah, I was just curious," she said, as she slipped her shoes on and grabbed her bag. "I'll see you later, mom."

"Alright, you have everything?"

The younger blonde nodded, pulling out a single drop earring from her pocket. A red crystal hung off it, mirroring the color of her eyes when her powers triggered, growing brighter as it absorbed more energy. It was the best restrictor money could buy, and yet her Fae seemed hardly restricted.

"Keep yourself out of trouble," her mother reminded, as she crossed the threshold to the open world, the sun greeting her, reminding her she still had a few more decades to go.

"I always do."

People liked to stare at her, she'd realized that a long time ago. It was as if some part of them knew what she was and what she could do. Still, it was rude of them. She felt almost tempted to glare back, but that would require emotion and she was trying to pretend she didn't have those anymore. Blank stares usually did the trick, anyway.

"Hey, Kurapika!"

Except these two. They hardly ever stared.

She acknowledged the two younger boys. Gon Freecss, who wore a green coat and worn blue jeans, his gravity-defying dark green hair catching the wind and late autumn sun. Sometimes, she wondered if he had some remnants of magic running through his veins that made his hair stand up like that, but then she remembered that he had symptoms of a Witch Hunter. Just symptoms. Like the fact he seemed to know from the start that she was a Witch, but didn't know how to call it. Small things only Witch Hunters could do. It was quite clear his family had been out of the witch-hunting business for a long time, though. His silver-haired friend was an entirely different story. She was almost certain his family was still active, though they seemed to only take requests. Killua most likely knew she was his natural enemy but didn't care enough to tell her. He hated being tied down by blood.

"Aunt Mito's going out tonight," Gon informed, running up so he didn't have to yell. That didn't mean he wouldn't. "Do you mind watching us?"

She glanced at the young woman. Mito stood in the doorway, leaning against one of the walls with a defeated expression, offering only a shrug and a small smile. She was going out, hmm? The corner of her mouth quirked up ever-so-slightly.

"I suppose not."

"YEAH!" Gon cheered, before turning to Killua and raising his hand. Killua's victory was considerably quieter, taking the form of a confident nod and a high five. Kurapika shook her head and walked on.

"I'll see you later then," she told them, without turning back, coming to a stop by Mito. "You're not going out, are you?"

The woman chuckled. "I suppose now I don't have much choice. Don't worry. I'll call up Kite. He always needs some help with his animals."

"I wonder what they have planned this time?" Kurapika murmured. Last time, they had tried retracing Ging's, Gon's father's, footsteps. A past-time Mito would've greatly disapproved of, simply because she hated the man with a burning passion. The blonde was significantly less antagonistic, though even she thought the mysterious Ging should remain just a mystery.

"I think they're trying to set you up," Mito confessed, cupping one side of her mouth as if telling the witch a dreaded secret.

Kurapika actually laughed at that. Romance? Her? Please, she hardly had anyone who earned the title of friend. Love was too strong of an emotion. Everyone always put it up on a pedestal, forgetting how many people have been driven to insanity and madness because of it. Love was simply a mixture of mistakes and hormones created to make you weak. The whole world would be better off without the feeling.

"Well, I'm looking forward to seeing what's in store," Kurapika said, voice still filled with mirth. Mito simply looked on, stuck between shock and pleasant surprise. "Bye then, Ms. Freecss."

She waved before heading off to school. No one else interrupted. All they did was stare.

School mirrored the streets, eyes were drawn to the one that stuck out and tried so hard not to. She walked to her chemistry class. Mr. Izunavi stood by the door.

"Miss Hokulani," the teacher greeted, handing her the lab sheet. "We'll be doing the Briggs-Rauscher Reaction today. Why don't you . . . partner up with Mr. Lucilfer for this experiment?"

Lucilfer? Lucilfer who?

She needed only to turn around to recognize him. Ah, yes. Chrollo Lucilfer. Age seventeen, black hair parted in the middle, eyes that flickered from warm brown to black obsidian depending on the light but were most often a calming grey. Transfer student from Genei Academy, currently tied with her in terms of test scores, as well as in overall performance. One of the popular ones, though he only really seemed to care about his mini-gang of students, who were affectionately nicknamed the Spider for whatever reason. Kurapika didn't see how spiders could ever have positive connotations attached to them. They invaded your home without even the slightest warning, sneaking up on you when you least expected it. They were demon spawn from the depths of Hell itself. Though, if that was the case, she supposed she and spiders would get along if given the chance.

"Alright, everyone's got a partner?" Mr. Izunavi asked, rolling in an example lab on wheels. "How many of you are familiar with Briggs-Rauscher reaction?"

 _Everyone who has so much as skimmed the paper you gave us, sir. You put the definition in the first paragraph._

Kurapika knew from experience, however, that teachers usually didn't like smart alecks, and that a visit to the Dean's Office was the exact opposite of not getting into trouble. Half the staff here had ties to Witch Hunters, most of them not even knowing, some of them knowing quite well and waiting for the moment she slipped up. Witch Hunters couldn't hunt witches without any solid proof that they were a danger to society, you see, and by solid proof, they mean photographed evidence and witness upon witness. Kurapika was the definition of careful.

"The Briggs-Rauscher Reaction is a chemical oscillator reaction occurs when three colorless solutions are mixed together. The color of the resulting mixture will oscillate between clear, amber, and deep blue for around three to five minutes, before finally settling into a blue-black color," her 'partner' replied, distractedly, though when she looked at him there didn't seem anything worthy of distraction where his eyes were transfixed. A strange boy, he was, but then, most teenaged males were.

"Thank you, Mr. Lucilfer," the chemist said, though he clearly didn't appreciate being ignored.

Chrollo didn't reply, chin still propped up on his hand, his eyes blank. Kurapika felt compelled to poke his arm to check if he was still alive, but that would require too much work.

"You were the one chosen to be the Student Council Representative," he suddenly said, the only evidence he was talking to her being the focus of his eyes.

She mirrored his position, eyes glancing in his direction. What a strange thing to bring up. "I was."

"But you turned it down."

"Yes?" What was he trying to get at?

"Just as you seem to turn down every offer. Scholarships, club memberships, romantic attachments. One could say handing out rejections is your specialty," he continued, and her confusion grew.

"What exactly are you getting at?"

"I'm simply curious," he answered.

"You've never been so curious before." The boy had never even so much as spoke to her in the year he'd been here. Why start now? And how did he know so much?

"That's another story for another time," he replied, sidestepping the question with ease. Kurapika stopped the itching desire to keep going with this pseudo-interrogation, but once again, that might reveal more than she could handle.

"What do you want, then?" she settled.

His answer came quick. "To get to know you, that's all."

She glanced his way again. He wasn't lying, but there was more underneath the quiet interest. Something sinister.

"Why?"

"Because you seem like an interesting person to get to know."

Someone coughed, and Kurapika vaguely remembered the teacher calling her up to help with the experiment. She was pretty sure he hadn't expected her to do so flawlessly if the look on his face was anything to go on. She didn't know why it would come as a surprise. She _was_ at the top of the class, after all.

It wasn't until much later that same day that she was able to sneak in another conversation with Lucilfer. She found it a bit suspicious that he was alone since he was usually flanked by two other members of his group, but then she realized she didn't much care.

"Could I talk to you for a sec?" she phrased it a question, but he didn't really have much of a choice. Before he could respond, she dragged him into an empty classroom. The closet probably would've been preferable, but she was in no mood to share such a small space with a possible stalker.

The man smirked a strange edge of playfulness in his expression. "What is it, little one?"

Little?! Oh dear, that pencil case just disintegrated. _Bad, bad, bad. Calm down, calm down. Alright, so he called you little. You could handle an insult to your stature._

"How do you know all those things about me?" she asked, maintaining her cold stare.

His own stare was directed at the pencil case turned pile of ashes. "So, you've got a flare, hmm?"

Oh, dear. Well, he clearly already knew she was a witch, so there was no use in making a fool of herself by trying to deny it. "And you are?"

"Are you familiar with the Phantom Troupe."

Her blood seemed to stop its running, her heart paused, and the shock froze her to the core.

"You know what my presence here means, don't you?" he whispered, stepping closer to the shell-shocked witch. "Little one?"

The Phantom Troupe was the stuff of legends, self-proclaimed Harbingers of Death for witches everywhere.

"You mean to kill me?"

"Not just you."

 _Slam!_

She pinned him to the wall, her vision tinted red, and with her anger came destruction. Cracks appearing on the floors, the lights flickering off and on, and who knew what else. Kill. Kill him and protect them.

"You try anything to harm them, I will personally see to it you never see the light of day again, you impudent little . . ." Ah shit, she was never very good at insults in dire situations.

"You're both terrifying and adorable at the same time, my dear. I don't know how to feel about that," he whispered, hands wriggling around in their fleshy handcuffs. Her eyes narrowed and he let out a painful grunt. She wasn't sure what her magic was doing, but for once she didn't mind, her thoughts colored the hazy red of anger and fear. The images of her parents lying dead on the floor pushing her further into a strange darkness she hadn't felt in a long time.

But then his hands twisted around hers, and he pulled them down and heaved a long breath of relief. A twisting feeling in her core brought her to her knees. It felt like her heart had been chained up, her magic being put away under lock and key.

"There we go. Much better," he said, before kneeling down beside her and placing a comforting hand on her back. "I'm sorry, little one, but you put me in a rather difficult position. There, there, deep breaths. That's right."

She sent a small shock of electricity at him, a charm she learned long ago. His hand jolted away, as expected, but instead of getting angry or backing off like he should've, he just laughed.

"Understood," he chuckled. "No touching. I'm sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"You just threatened to kill my parents."

He waved the fact away like a pesky fly. "No, I simply answered your question. I said I came here to kill you and your loved ones, not that I actually will."

"So, you won't?" she asked, uncertainly. What a confusing boy.

He pursed his lips, eyeing her carefully, before shaking his head. "No, you're clear."

"And you won't come near us again?" she continued, thinking her conditions quite reasonable.

He didn't share her sympathies.

"Never again?" he asked, his voice sounding comically horrified. "You ask too much of me, m'lady."

The Witch rolled her eyes. "What? Do you want us to be friends now?"

"Friends would be nice, yes?" he replied, tossing her a charming smile. She grinned back, less charmingly, doing her best to make it seem like she was baring her teeth instead, before standing up and leaving the room.

"No."

As if she'd be anything with Witch Hunting vermin like him. The bastard would be better off dead. Indeed, friendship was out of the question.

Unfortunately for her, her new self-proclaimed 'friend' had other ideas.

. . .

 **. End of Chapter/Story .**

 **A/N: You're a funny guy, Chrollo. Anyway, hello my peoples. Here's that Halloween one-shot I haven't been able to shut up about. Witch High School AUs get me all excited. Heheh, I was going to clarify a bunch of shit here, but then I forgot it all, so whoops. Anyway, unless this blows up and becomes super popular and eventually guilts/motivates me into writing more, this shall stay a one-shot.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Auntie Choco**


End file.
